


An Altean Custom

by Sand_boy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cute, Fluff, Fusion, Fusion is Altean because you can’t disprove it, Keitor, M/M, it was an impulse write, they basically just fuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 05:26:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16758829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sand_boy/pseuds/Sand_boy
Summary: Lotor looked down to him, and their eyes met. To him, Keith seemed less lost. He was still very confused, however, it seemed an improvement Lotor thought. To not to be lost in the universe, but confused by a dance.





	An Altean Custom

Missions took a toll on everyone. Small battles never seemed like they would ever add up to a won war. Lotor knew better than most what it was like to fight continuously in what seemed like a lost cause. He’d been fighting his whole life, be it under his father’s thumb or against his tyranny. He’d become well acquainted with the kind of fights that only ended with overwhelming dread rather than the feeling of victory. This fight had been no different, but he was old, he’d lived through it. Keith however, was young, even by his own kind’s standards he was frightfully young, barely an adult. 

The common room was empty for the most part. Jackets had been tossed on the couches, felt behind. Random items were strewn around the room from different paladins, creating a rather large clutter and of course, standing by the window, the smallest Blade. Lotor made his way towards the man, though he paid him no mind, entranced by the view. Despite the hostility of the team and their shaky alliship, Lotor had found solidarity within the Blade. An understanding of each other that rarely reached verbal words, but an understanding nonetheless. He looked over to the Blade and let out a soft sigh before gazing into the vastness of space. 

“Staring into the void of space for long periods can be terrible for one's psyche.” He warned though Keith paid him no mind, staring into the black. 

In the reflection of the glass, Lotor could see Keith’s face. His brows furrowed, the beginning of a snarl marked on his features, sadness and anger and frustration in his eyes. At times it was frightening how much the Blade reminded Lotor of himself. He knew his frustration, the wish to finish the fight no matter the cost as long as it was over. To cut off the head of the snake and watch the body die. He’d learned war was not so simple, and it seemed the lesson was sinking in for the Blade. He felt pity. Of course, when he was young he had no one there for him. He’d been alone to suffer the grief and the anguish. Keith was not, and yet he chose to isolate himself. He, of course, saw why it was an appealing option to keep to oneself, however, he also knew how damaging it could be. 

Unwilling to leave just yet, Lotor rested his hand on the little Blade’s shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts enough to gain his attention. Keith looked back to him despondently. Lotor didn’t bother to explain himself, but offered a hand to him, which after a moment’s delay and a brief look of confusion, Keith took. A smile warmed onto Lotor’s face as he turned Keith around to face him completely. His plans seemed to dawn on Keith who looked down at their hands. 

“You’re kidding, right?” He muttered monotone. “I can’t dance.”

With his free hand, he placed his knuckle under his chin and lifted his face to see him. 

“I’m not concerned with your skill.” Lotor hummed airily, placing his hand on the base of the other's neck.

“Why?” 

Though he understood the question, but the playful part of him elected to ignore it, “This is not quite the formal occasion that requires an apt skill set.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Keith huffed, looking away, “I didn’t even think the Galra danced.”

“We don’t,” Lotor answered, taking a step and waiting for Keith to follow. He did. “However, it has come to my attention humans do. Alteans as well.”

“Right.” He huffed, keeping up easily given Lotor was moving awfully slow, “Why are we dancing then?”

Lotor leads the next step slow enough for Keith to learn. “Is it not a better distraction? I’ve found it to be soothing however it is rare I have a partner, even one of so little skill.” He bit, and for a moment he could have sworn there was a smile on the Blade’s face. 

Keith rolled his eyes then looked down to their feet, attempting to follow along, “Isn’t your hand supposed to be on my waist?”

A smile of interest came to him, “No? Is that how one dances on your home planet?” Lotor asked curiosity peaked. 

“It’s one way of doing it, I guess.” 

“Hmm,” He hums, gently running his thumb along the other’s neck, “It seems far more intimate like this. To trust one enough to allow them so close.” He stated it was the history of the dance, a sign of trust. 

“Where’s my hand supposed to go?” Keith asked bluntly. Up until then, it had been hovering at his waist. Lotor looked down to him, and their eyes met. To him, Keith seemed less lost. He was still very confused, however, it seemed an improvement Lotor thought. To not to be lost in the universe, but confused by a dance. It was cute to watch him fumble.

“Under my arm.” He informed, and soon after a hand was placed just there, under his arm, fingers curling around to his back as Keith took a step forward. Though not as well trained or assure, Keith eventually fell into the rhythm, still sparing a glance down to his feet every now and again to mimic him or to make sure he wasn’t going to step on his feet. It was in a rare moment Keith let out a sigh and rested his head on his chest. 

At that moment Lotor could feel an unfamiliar feeling rise to his face, but even stranger, he could feel something like warmth gather in his chest. It wasn’t a natural feeling, not one of fondness, he’d already felt that way prior. This was more of a thrumming energy. It was warm and held within his rib cage testily as if it didn’t wish to stay there. He could feel it on his face, though not as if his cheeks were to darken, only under his eyes. 

Once done the current set, Lotor felt the sudden urge to take a risk, so he took their clasped hands and raised them slowly so to allow Keith to follow. He gently pushed back on Keith’s shoulder turning him and wrapping his own arm around his chest. They stood, front to back, their hands clasped and resting on Keith’s shoulder, his other on his bicep, holding him lightly. Keith looked up to him, resting against his chest once more before bringing his free hand to wrap around his own waist. Lotor looked down to him, and for a moment they held each other’s gaze before Keith shut his eyes and let out a deep sigh. The warm energy in his chest seemed to be reaching some sort of climax as Lotor leaned down to press his lips softly against the Little Blade’s forehead. The moment his eyes slid closed something changed. 

A body, one body with four arms, braced around his body as the two had been before. One pair of eyes, still closed but just blinking open. 

The body stood for a moment, seeing the world for the first time. He was tall, but there was something in his face. He reached out to touch it. It was his hair, a strand of dark gray hair. He always found it odd— but it was always there, it wasn’t odd. He walked to the window, his steps were loud. 

In the reflection, he saw himself. He was taller than he’d ever been. His sclera was yellow, but his irises a satin purple. His hair was past his shoulders, his bangs framed his face. He had on a red jacket over breastplate, and his first set of arms had Lotor’s gauntlets. His gauntlet. His hands were clawed. His second set of arms only wore dark fingerless gloves. He looked in the reflection and on his face, vivid Altean markings. 

“I think we’ve fused.” He said. He knew why he said it, but he didn’t know why. He knew who we were, but he didn’t. It was oddly mixed. 

“What?” He stated.

“We’ve fused.” He explained to himself, “I never thought I could do such a thing, given I am half-bred. It’s Altean magic.”

He understood himself, what he meant, and the knowledge rushed through his brain as if he had remembered it. He looked in the window. He was Keith and he was Lotor. He looked at himself. He was a mixture. Certain features resembled the others. Keith’s bangs, part of Lotor’s armor, Keith’s outfit, Lotor’s sharp teeth. However, there were also things about him that were not like either. His hair was gray, he was much taller than Lotor, his extra set of arms. But that was all just physical. Mentally he felt rather odd as well. He felt like he was three people, but he was one more than the others. Like a Venn diagram with a rather large middle— whatever that was. But it was also nice. He felt like he had a crutch to lean on in the world. He wasn’t so frighteningly alone. 

The body turned away from the mirror and took a step. Then another. His legs were long. He looked at the couch, it would have been slightly small for him. It was odd to learn his placement in the world now, and how he fits. He picked up one of the jackets, Hunks. It would be too small for him. He set it down. 

Before he could even fully set the jacket as it was, the sound of the door opening caught them by surprise. The green palidin was in the doorway and for a moment the world was still as they stared at each other. Pidge drew her weapon and made a bolt for the panel and in that second the body broke and with a flash of light Lotor and Keith were reintroduced to the world. 

“Code 3: There's an intruder in the lou—“

Keith stood rushed over and took pushed her from the intercom, before explaining, “False Alarm. Disregard.”

The scene before them was dense with tension as Keith and Lotor were both shaken by panic and no small amount of embarrassment, Pidge was recklessly confused at the whole situation. 

“You two are going to have to explain a lot.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment. The attention somehow validated where I am as a person in the universe.


End file.
